


200 Kisses - Sterek AU

by InsaneB



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Kisses, LITERALLY, M/M, This tiny thing is my lucky charm, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11874342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneB/pseuds/InsaneB
Summary: It's simple: Derek needs money and Scott suggests he sells kisses.Of fucking course Stiles buys them.





	200 Kisses - Sterek AU

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey! So ahm, I'm italian and my vocabulary is still poor and parts of this thing could sound completely off. I'm sorry, I tried to make it better.
> 
> This is a story I always post when I discover a new ship, it's like my "Heeey, it's me, I write stuff!". Sooo... enjoy? I hope you will!
> 
> Cheers to ETERNAL STEREK, an amazing Discord Server! :)

“Shit.”  
  
“Derek” Scott said.  
  
“I’ll just ahead and buy a gravestone,” Derek muttered, looking at the car’s broken mirror- or, what was left of it. It dangled on the side of his father’s car, thanks to the two red and yellow wires still attached on it.  
  
"Will you please listen to me?” Scott tried again, his eyebrows furrowed.  
  
“Fuck my fucking life sh--“ “Derek!” Scott shouted, smacking his shoulder with his palm. Derek could turn into this annoying drama queen when it came to his father’s car, and Scott hated it. He always acted like the world was about to swallow him alive, and it was his task to solve his problems. Every. Fucking. Time.  
  
“Derek, I have an idea, just calm the fuck down.”  
  
Derek brightened up, and turned around so quickly that his neck gave out a creepy noise. He huffed, massaged his nape, then he watched his curly-haired brother with hope, now interested in his words. He listened.  
  
  
“THIS-” Derek shouted, moving his hands around in a menacing way. “-is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! What the fuck Scott, are you kidding me? Do dancing monkeys live in your stupid head? You’re... You can’t be serious, no, no- what. Scott. What did I do in my life to deserve a brother like you? Why do you even exist. No. I’ll never do that,” he rambled, furrowing his eyebrows in an scowl. It didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon with that scene, so Scott let him talk and talk some more, looking at the floor with a bored pout painted on his lips. He drew imaginary circles with his fingers on his jeans, knowing that that burst could take ages to finally be over.  
  
He waited, waited for so long, Derek’ screams were about to make his ears bleed. He yawned seconds before noticing that silence had finally filled the room. “Are you finished?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
Derek huffed, rolling his eyes then looking at the ceiling. “I was just trying to explain how much of a dumbass you are.”  
  
Scott nodded, then shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not gonna tell dad it’s my fault this time, I’m telling you. And I’ll be there when he hangs your head on the front door. Laughing. So hard that we’ll need two gravestones. But it’ll be worth it.”  
  
Derek had never hated Scott more. His brother could be so fucking stupid and annoying, and he had the stupidest ideas ever (he still loved him to pieces). “Fuck you,” he muttered.  
  
He could find another way to solve his problem.  
  
He was sure about that.  
  
  
_  
  
  
He didn’t manage to find another way. He thought about going job haunting and he actually did in the end, but no one was up to hire him for one week and pay him after every single shift. They asked for a three-months deal, and he couldn’t wait that long. He needed the money in his hands in like, two weeks, when his father’s would have come back from his business trip. His mother didn’t say anything to him, and that was good, or he would’ve been dead by now.  
  
He thought about helping his neighbours with hairstyling, but he didn’t even know how to style his own hair, which he just combed with his fingers un the morning. No. He would never start a hairstylist career.  
  
He only had fourty dollars in his wallet, and he needed... two hundred-ten.  
  
  
He stood up from his bed, left his room and knocked on his brother’s door. Scott muttered something like a ‘What’, and he opened the door, immediately giving him his puppy eyes. “Scott,” he murmured, falling head first on his brother's bed.  
  
“Jesus Christ what an annoying bug you are,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “What is it?”  
  
“Dad’s gonna kill me,” Derek explained, his nose stuffed in the pillow.  
  
“'course he is” Scott agreed, nodding and smiling. “Now tell me something I don’t know. I’ll let you know what I’ll do with your part of the bequest.”  
  
“C’mon Scott! You can’t be that mean to me. I’m your little brother, and I’m in deep shit. You should help me, not mock me like that!” he used his puppy eyes again, grey and blue shining under the lamp's light. “Can’t you just help me out? Maybe with some savings to save your brother?”  
  
“Annoying bug.”  
  
“Whatever! Please?”  
  
“Derek I don’t have savings, as always. Spent them on beers last week. And I did tell you my idea, but you won’t listen to me, so...” he shrugged.  
  
“Scott, I’ll feel like... like I'm a whore! I can’t do that! Gosh,” Derek shook his head, still skeptical about Scott’s idea.  
  
“Like you haven’t kissed half the school yet. Just shut up and do it. That ‘Free hugs’ thing worked all over the world, why wouldn't this work out?”  
  
“That was completely different, Scott,” Derek said, rolling on his back and placing his big hands over his face.  
  
Scott didn’t reply. He came back to his homework to double check his essay. Silence filled the room.  
  
Minutes passed, and Derek sounded frustrated when he opened his mouth again. “You sure you can’t come up with a better way to save my life? That way you won’t have to buy a black suit to attend to my funeral.”  
  
Scott laughed lightly, then looked at him and shook his head with sympathy.  
  
“And do you really think this thing is going to work? That there'll really be someone who’s up to...?”  
  
Scott nodded. “You’re the popular one. It’ll work.”  
  
Derek sighed, and decided to give it a try.  
  
(But he still felt like a whore.)  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
“You’re mental.”  
  
That’s what half of the school had said to him approximately a billion times in like, thirty seconds. Ok, it was probably fair, since he was sitting in the hall, a sign placed on the table that read ‘1$=one kiss’. Derek was shifting awkardly on his chair, ashamed. Fucking Scott.  
  
He’d been there for a minute, and... three girls had stopped in front of him, handed him one euro each, and were now waiting for him to stand up and kiss them. Derek was white like a sheet: they weren't exactly pretty and they looked like they were thirteen. He hadn't considered the fact that not every fucking person that would paid for a kiss was going to be pretty and , ahm, legal.  
  
He gulped, then he finally decided to stand up and lean over the table. The girls shriked, then gave him a kiss, smiling like fools and giggling madly. Derek waited for them to leave him the fuck alone, then he wiped his lips furiously with a napkin. Fucking Scott, again.  
  
And there he was, the dumbass. Scott casually leaned on the table’s right edge, looking at the jar in which the three dollars laid. “See? One week and you’ll be safe” he said, crossing his arms and smirking like he knew it all.  
  
Derek shook his head. “Go away. I hate you.”  
  
Scott laughed and walked past him to meet his friends for lunch.  
  
Two minutes more, and Derek had gained ten dollars with kisses to girls and boys.  
Derek was bisexual, and people envied him for his popularity.  
There always was someone asking him out or putting lovely notes in his locker, though. Straight boys either admired or hated him, but he was such a kind human being, that he didn’t really had enemies.  
  
Derek smiled; it was perfect. Business was good, and he already felt so much better.  
  
He still wasn’t over the fact that he was selling himself, but he really, really needed the money. Teachers laughed at him and walked past him without further questions. He shook his head. He couldn’t believe this was actually working. He would never, ever pay for a kiss.  
  
“Hello.”  
  
Derek looked up. “Hey there,” he said, and his eyes studied the boy who was standing in front of the table. He was tall and lean, and had slightly broad shoulders and pale skin. The best part of him, though was his face: sparkling deep brown-amber-yello-what-the-hell eyes, beautifully shaped lips and sweet smile. Derek couldn't manage to close his mouth. He spotted freckles and a good number of moles too.  
  
The what-the-hell-eyed boy scratched his cheek with a thumb, fidgeting awkwardly. “Can I ask you something?”  
  
Derek shrugged. “Sure.”  
  
“Why are you doing this?” the boy asked, shyly. Woah. Shy and gorgeous. What a match made in heaven.  
  
Derek sighed then laughed, ashamed. “Uhm. I... I kinda broke my father’s car, and I need it to be as new as it was when he left for his business trip, or I’ll end up either dead or homeless,” he explained, trying to play it cool.  
  
The guy giggled, then he licked his lips in a nervous gesture. “How much do you need to save your life?” he asked, hesitation written all over his face.  
  
Derek furrowed his brows, wondering why this guy was asking so many questions. “Uh, I've gained ten dollars so far, and I need two-hundred more,” he replied. Fuck, that was a lot of money. He didn’t even had half of it, and maybe he’d be dead in two weeks after all.  
  
The boy smiled, now delighted. He grabbed his wallet from his pocket and handed Derek two bills. “Here.”  
  
Derek’s eyes were wide open when he picked them up. He gaped at them, then stared at the what-the-hell-eyed guy for a second. Oh. The word on the guy’s T-shirt explained it all: Dior.  
  
Posh kid doing him a favour.  
  
“Oh. Well then, I think I can stop with this thing then?” Derek joked, nervous as fuck.  
  
The boy smiled, blushing furiously. “It’s Stiles , by the way.”  
  
They shook hands, then decided to meet up after school to, kind of, plan the thing.  
  
They were going to set up a schedule for kissing, as weird as it sounded.  
  
But they just couldn’t kiss two-hundred times in a row, eh?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Here you are, I couldn’t see you.”  
  
Stiles shrugged. “That’s because I’m a dwarf, ha,” he joked, blushing and hiding his face, looking down.  
  
Derek wondered what kind of a posh kid Stiles was. He looked shy and he was polite, kind of unusual for a boy who could just hand out 200 dollars to buy kisses from a stranger. “Uhm, well,” he started, leaning back on the wall. “Should we, like... set up a schedule for the kisses?” he asked, feeling like a jerk. That was definitely the weirdest thing he had ever said and done in his life.  
  
Deciding where and when they would’ve kissed, that was heartless. Stupid. Cold.  
  
Money, Derek remembered himself, trying to play it cool and get over the awkward moment.  
  
“Uhm, yeah,” Stiles mumbled, his hands shakingin his pockets.  
  
Derek thought about it for what it felt like ages, then he grabbed a notebook from his bag. He opened it and tore a page, then wrote something on it with a pencil. “We’ll write numbers from one to two-hundred, and we’ll delete a number for each kiss, is that ok?” he asked, standing awkwardly on his legs. “And, I think you should keep this, I lose my belongings on a daily basis ."  
  
Stiles laughed lightly, then nodded.  
  
“I was thinking about something during class, --don’t look at me like that, I was bored. History,” he explained, after seeing Stiles lifting his eyebrows. “Anyways, it’d be like fourteen kisses for thirteen days, then an eighteen-kisses-day,” he said, feeling stupider and stupider.  
  
Stiles wondered why this kisses-thing had an expiration date, but he didn’t had the time to ask for an explanation.  
  
“I thought this thing should be over before Christmas break, it’s just... fair, you know?” Derek said, nodding to himself. He felt so heartless, talking in that terms about kisses, but Stiles had paid for them, and that was just... business.  
  
“O-Okay,” Stiles mumbled, nodding slowly. He had hardly looked at Derek in the eyes so far, and he didn’t really know how to feel about that.  
  
He opened his palms, sighing. “Uh, shall we? Now?”  
  
Stiles gulped, started sweating then nodded again –he did that a lot, eh?  
  
He felt his hands shake, and hoped Derek wouldn’t notice.  
  
Derek furrowed his brows, but got closer anyway, waiting for Stiles to lift his chin.  
  
He did after a little bit, and Derek found a face not that difficult to kiss. With a close view, Stiles was even prettier. His skin looked soft, his jawline sharp, his lips plump and pink. Derek was going to enjoy those lips. He wouldn’t mind biting them, either. They were perfect, and he found himself looking forward to their first kiss.  
  
So he kissed him and it was just a peck, nothing more. He saw Stiles lift one of his hands and count one kiss, starting from his pinkie. Oh, that was cute.  
  
He leaned in and back nine times, and Stiles reciprocated the pecks with light pressure. Derek could feel him breathe faster then normal, and the last five kisses were over in a blink of an eye.  
  
Stiles leaned back and started looking down again. Derek shifted awkwardly, looked at him then deleted the numbers from the page.  
  
“Here you are,” he said, handing him the sheet.  
  
Stiles took it, folded it and put it in his bag.  
  
“So... I'll see you tomorrow? Before school starts, if you’re up for it?”  
  
“Cool. All right. Yes, see you tomorrow,” Stiles rambled, his face red.  
  
“Perfect, see ya.”  
  
Derek walked past him with a smile, leaving Stiles with his heart beating faster than ever under his Dior T-shirt.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Mornings were so cold lately. The snow was falling and Stiles was shaking under his gloves, scarf, beanie, coat and jeans. His tum had been hurting since he'd left home, thinking about Derek. He was waiting for him, freezing his freaking organs off in front of the school building.  
  
He shuddered, wishing for a cup of tea, a fireplace and a blanket. He felt like he was about to turn into a snowman, and as he was starting to think that Derek wouldn’t show up, a car stopped right in front of him. Derek looked warm and relaxed, his cheeks slightly pink and his hands covered in red gloves.  
  
“Hiii! Get in, it’s freezing!” he said, smiling and waving his hand.  
  
Stiles stood up in no time, his chest tightening. He smiled shyly and sat beside the handsome man, then sighed when he felt warm again inside the car.  
  
Derek parked a few metres away from the school building, then faced him with a sweet smile. “So, yeah, I was thinking we could divide the kisses?” he started, his face unsure. “I mean like, before school, during lunch break and after school. How’s that?”  
  
“Y-Yeah, that’s okay,” Stiles replied, nodding and feeling incredibly self conscious. Then he suddenly smiled. It felt like he had rented had a boyfriend for two weeks, and he didn’t even felt guilty or stupid for doing it. His stomach stretched and turned happily.  
  
“So that means we’re kissing four times now, five times during lunch break and five more times after school,” Derek explained.  
  
“Cool,” Stiles agreed, smiling.  
  
The guy with the beard nodded, then leaned in, putting his arm over Stiles’ seat.  
  
The boy got closer too, and his fantasy went off. In his head, Derek’s arm was tight around his shoulders, and he was kissing him because he wanted to.  
  
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.  
  
Those four kisses were just pecks, just like the first couple ones they'd shared, but that was the reason why they felt so sweet. Stiles absolutely adored them, and loved the fact that he was going to get one-hundred and eighty-two more.  
  
Space was between them again, but it was still early for school.  
  
“Hey Stiles, in which class are you in?” Derek asked when silence started to bother him. He could tell Stiles didn't kniw what to say.  
  
“5A,” the boy replied, discouraged. That much confirmed that Derek had never noticed him. He was disappointed, but didn’t say anything. He kind of knew, he’d seen that coming. Derek was popular, and he probably only liked handsome boys and beautiful girls. His standards were high enough not to get a second look to people like Stiles. Because Stiles was only popular to normal nice-looking people. Derek was... out of this world hot. So, no Derek for the Stiles.  
  
“Wait, what? Seriously? That’s right in front of my class, 5D,” Derek said, and he looked genuinely confused. He had never seen Stiles, and really, how was that even possible?  
  
No, shit?, Stiles thought, but: “Yeah,” he said aloud.  
  
“Have you always been here? I mean, for the last five years?” Derek asked again, like he couldn’t believe that Stiles had always been so close. The what-the-hell-eyed boy was a very good looking guy, and Derek used to notice boys with such unique eyes. He had a thing for them.  
  
So hiw did that happen?  
  
Stiles nodded, then tried to concentrate on the snow falling down.  
  
“Funny that, I’ve never seen you before,” Derek said, scowling.  
  
Stiles shrugged, but thought that that was a good sign.  
  
Maybe Derek had finally noticed him, and regretted not doing it earlier.  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
Derek was waiting for Stiles in front of the school building. They had kissed five times during lunch break, chatted a bit and smoked a cigarette together. It had been pretty nice and chill, and Derek had enjoyed it. After a couple of minutes he saw Stiles walk until he was close enough to see his pink lips curved in a smile.  
  
“Hi,” he said, and Derek found him pretty adorable, again.  
  
“Hey,” he replied, reciprocating his smile. He moved his hand, asking for him to come closer.  
  
Stiles took a step, and Derek’s lips were on his a second later. Stiles smiled lightly, trying really hard to hide it whilst kissing Derek, but that was difficult. His ribs were shaking around his heart, which beat fast and hard. He felt out of breath.  
  
Derek had that effect on him. Damn it.  
  
“Need a ride home?” Derek asked, kindly.  
  
Stiles blushed, delighted by the offer. That was something new. He nodded furiously, like Derek could’ve left him there if he waited a second too long to agree. “That'd be great, thanks Derek!” he said, and fuck it if he smiled like a kid.  
  
They approached Derek’s car walking side by side, chatting about football during the short walk.

-

“You can stop here, my house’s the yellow one.”  
  
Derek looked at the building. His experience told him that that wasn’t a place you would expect a posh kid to live. It was actually half the size of his own house, and he furrowed his brows, confused. He didn’t say anything though, while Stiles grabbed his backpack and smiled at him.  
  
“See you tomorrow, mh?” the amber-eyed boy said, and Derek thought he was too nice and down on earth for a posh kid again.  
  
He was always so sweet, all smiles and sparkling kind eyes. He nodded, and a small dimple appeared on his cheek when he smiled.  
  
Stiles looked around shyly while biting his lips, then he leaned in and kissed the boy quickly. Derek smiled, and didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t mind.  
  
Why would he? Stiles was beautiful and Derek was just a guy who liked beautiful boys, that’s it.  
  
“I’m ticking this one off too, I swear,” Stiles assured, then he blushed and hopped off the car as fast as he could.  
  
Derek watched him walk until he reached the yellow house, laughing.  
  
He felt lucky for having to kiss someone like Stiles two-hundred times.  
  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
Four days, fifty-two kisses. They kind of got used to meet up three times every day. The best part of it for Stiles was the ride back home: Derek’s car was always warm and smelled like soap. But maybe that smell was actually Derek’s hair. Stiles loved it.  
  
They got to know each other a little better, and Derek didn’t mind Stiles presence.  
  
In fact, he actually liked the boy. It had been kind of natural, with Stiles being such a sweetheart. And those eyes, well, Derek had had to hide a light blush on his cheeks several times, because of his thing for quirky eyes.  
  
Derek almost felt like the boy cared about him, and he also felt like they could be more than a business thing.  
  
He smiled as looked the boy in the crowd. He finally caught sight of him and waved to catch his attention. His smile turned into a frown though, seeing Stiles getting closer to him with a sad look on his beautiful face. He was looking down –as always-, and when he smiled at him it wasn’t a proper smile. It faded away in two seconds.  
  
Derek frowned. Something was up. “Stiles? What happened?”  
  
The boy shrugged and didn’t reply, his classmates walking past him in a concert of giggles. Stiles looked small and vulnerable.  
  
“Stiles, tell me what happened,” he repeated.  
  
“My knee hurts when it’s cold, so I skipped P.E. today. Coach Smith asked me if I was skipping because of my period. Mind me, I don't really get bullied, but Coach Smith isn't fond of me. He overheard me say I liked Coach Finnstock better, and now I've got a bully who's not a student but a Professor! Fuck my life,” he explained, angry and ashamed, still avoiding Derek's eyes.  
  
Derek’s lips parted, and he felt bad for the boy. He didn’t deserve it. He was too kind to be mocked like that. “What the heck, I’m sorry Stiles. Coach Smith is an ass. Just stop listening to him, maybe have a chat with Finnstock,” he said, shaking his head. How in the hell could a professor say something like that to a student? That fucking school was full of shit.  
  
Stiles sighed. “I felt so fucking ashamed. And angry. They were laughing at me, but I don’t think I can do anything about it.”  
  
Derek shook his head again, opening his arms. “Come here.”  
  
Stiles’ eyes were big and they were sparkling again. Derek giggled, then grabbed his hands, pulled and hugged him, holding him so tight that Stiles couldn’t breathe. But he didn’t mind at all. His tum was doing somersaults. Damn if he liked Derek. He made him feel safe, and his kisses were amazing.  
  
He had never felt so loved, even though he had paid for it. Funny that.  
  
“Four kisses to scare the sadness and make it go away?” Derek asked, a smile on his lips.  
  
Stiles’ legs turned into jelly, and for just a minute it felt like Derek was his boyfriend. It was amazing. He nodded and Derek started kissing him. One, two, three times.  
  
“Stop thinking about it,” he said, and kissed the boy twice more.  
  
Stiles almost couldn’t take all the sweetness, Derek’s kisses were even better when he was holding him like that, with that warm coat on and his fluffy scarf. And those lips. Always so red and soft, and warm, and he felt like he was about to melt. Damn, fuck.  
  
“You know what Stiles?” Derek started again, smiling kindly and holding him tighter. “I think Coach Smith can’t stand the fact that you don't like his as much as Finnstock ‘cause he's got a crush on you.”  
  
Stiles laughed, then frowned deeply. “Gosh, what the hell, Derek! That's disgusting,” he said. He gulped, then sighed and looked at the boy with a shy smile. “Hey... are hugs for free?”  
  
Derek could’ve died. Stiles was so fucking adorable. “Sure, and always will be!” he answered, his heart warm when he saw Stiles’ smile. Cute, kind, freaking amber-eyed, fucking perfect. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.”  
  
Stiles nodded, his back on fire where Derek touched it, guiding him towards his car.  
  
He wondered if, one day, he’d get free kisses too.  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
That was the third kiss of the seventh day. Derek had gotten used to it: he got to school, kissed Stiles, attended classes, kissed Stiles during lunch break, left school and kissed Stiles some more. Derek’s new routine satisfied him, and before he knew it, he hadn’t flirted with any other girl or boy ever since he had met Stiles.  
  
He'd even admitted it to his brother. Scott teased him a lot about it, and he was starting to regret telling him about how much he liked Stiles. He had forced him to explain out loud why and hiw much he liked his sparkling amber eyes and his giant but thin hands which he loved to bury in his pockets. Damn. Scott thought the two were now over the business thing and they were now dating. Derek wasn’t sure about it, and had always shushed him.  
  
Suddenly, Derek removed his lips from Stiles’, panicked, and the boy looked at him with a confused glance.  
  
“Shit. Fuck, shit," he rambled.  
  
“What the... Derek?” asked Stiles, looking at him with big, scared eyes.  
  
“I fucking forgot about that fucking Science test today. Fuck,” he replied, going white as a sheet. “I can’t fucking fail, mom will kill me. She didn’t say anything to dad about the car, but she wouldn’t let this one pass.”  
  
“So what are you gonna do?” asked Stiles, blinking.  
  
“I gotta get outta here. Right now. No one’s seen me yet,” Derek said, looking around.  
  
“Oh, ok!” Stiles muttered, suddenly sad. “Well then, we’ll uhm... change our schedule a bit. Don’t worry about it, just go!”  
  
Derek stopped looking around. “Come with me, come on. Let’s go.”  
  
“With you," Stiles mumbled, shifting on his legs. He was sure smoke was blowing out of his ears, because his brain was on fire in his skull. Gosh. What the heck.  
  
Derek nodded. “Yep. But if you have something important to do, it’s ok.”  
  
Stiles shook his head quickly, smiled and forced himself not to freak out. He could do it. He could spend a day with Derek without looking mental.  
  
“Let’s go, we gotta be quick, we can’t get caught!” Derek said, grabbing his arm to walk away with him.  
  
  
  
  
“God that cat!” Derek said, his voice loud and happy. His eyes had teared up from laughing. “When he takes off his hat and blinks, that’s the face I try to show my mom when I do something like breaking my dad’s car.”  
  
“Damn yeah, like this,” Stiles said, doing exactly what Derek had described. His amber eyes looked at the Derek like he was praying for a kiss. He was a perfect double of the cat from Shrek (he did his best).  
  
“Oh,” Derek mumbled before he knew it. He just couldn’t help it. That boy. That boy was perfect, he had no other words to describe him.  
  
Stiles felt shy again. He cleared his voice and played with a napkin, not daring to take a second look at the boy.  
  
Derek felt like he had no weapons against Stiles’ sweetness. He was completely helpless with him, and he didn’t felt like hiding it anymore. “That was cute,” he stated, smiling sincerely.  
  
Stiles smiled too. Derek found him cute. That was the beginning of something more.  
  
Right?  
  
  
-  
  
  
He kissed him. The bench was cold and it was snowing again, but, who cared?  
  
Ninety-seven.  
  
Stiles trembled, his arms lying flat on his sides. It was cold, but his lips were warm on Derek’s. He’d never felt better.  
  
He kissed him. Derek felt Stiles shake slightly, and put an arm around him. He held him tight, trying to warm him up.  
  
Ninety-eight.  
  
Stiles smiled, and something melt inside him. Feeling a little braver, he put his hands on Derek’s coat, and the boy hugged him with both his arms.  
  
Ninety-nine.  
  
He kissed him, another peck under the snowflakes. Beautiful, oh so beautiful. Stiles felt warm inside out, Derek’s arms lulled him and took his breath away, it was perfect.  
  
Derek kissed him again, and Stiles looked at him. “One hundred,” he said, blushing.  
  
“Oh,” Derek said. They should have reached ninety-nine and then stop, but... “Wasn’t counting,” he admitted, his cheeks turning into a light shade of red.  
  
Stiles couldn’t be happier. Derek hadn't been counting, he was kissing him for the sake of it. He wanted those kisses to happen, and his heart was a mess again. He shrugged, running out of words. He was mentally freaking out.  
  
Derek smiled, and Stiles deleted the numbers from the page.  
  
Stiles hated seeing half of the numbers ticked off, but he had seven more days, one hundred more kisses. Things could get even better, and he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, that kisses thing could turn out for him with the loss of two-hundred dollars but a boyfriend on his side.  
  
It was worth it.  
  
-  
  
“Weird, ah?” Erica said, smirking.  
  
“What?" Scott asked the girl, eating his sandwich like he hadn’t had food in days.  
  
“Stiles and Derek are missing. But I’m sure Stiles was here this morning. Ha,” she singsonged, lifting one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows.  
  
Scott smiled, nodding knowingly. “Oh the lovebirds...”  
  
Erica giggled. “Babe, I hope I’ll have to thank you when this thing is over.”  
  
“Oh baby, you sure will,” he stated.  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
“Scott you’re hurting my head. I feel like it’s going to explode in two seconds if you don’t shut the fuck up.”  
  
“And Stiles is making you heart explode!” he chirped, hugging a pillow and looking up, shaking his head.  
  
Derek tried hard to calm down. “Scott, I already told you I like him, why do you keep teasing me?” he scoffed. He had things to study, he didn’t have time for Scott’s ramblings.  
“’Cause you two are sooo cute! And I wanna know everything about it!” Scott explained, almost shouting.  
  
Derek shook his head. “But you do know everything about it! We kissed one hundred seventy times and talked a lot. Eleven days passed and I like him. What the hell do you want to know?!”  
  
It had been eleven days, and Derek had started thinking about Stiles a lot more in the last couple of days. Three days, and everything would've come to an end. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. He liked Stiles, but...  
  
Scott shrugged. “Well, you might...” he started, playing with a corner of the pillow. “You know, will you ask him out when this thing is over?”  
  
Derek gulped. “I’d really like that but... Scott,” he said, forgetting about his books. “He’s... He’s a rich kid, he just decided to waste two of his several 100$ bills to buy some kisses. Do you genuinely think it meant anything else to him? You know... Scott, he’s amazing and oh so hot. And he can’t not be aware of it. If he actually wanted to date me or something, I think he’d have just asked me out. Be realistic,” he said, scowling.  
  
Derek came to that conclusion the night before. He felt like he had suddenly woke up from a beautiful dream. He felt sad, torn apart, unsure. The fact that Stiles bought kisses didn’t align with the fact that he might want more, that he actually liked Derek. Stiles had just been getting what he'd paid for, but he always blushed and looked like the kindest guy ever.  
  
Derek knew he was fucked. Fuck Scott and his ideas.  
  
“Uh,” Scott mumbled, looking at his brother with a confused scowl. “I... I don’t think Stiles doesn’t care about you.”  
  
Derek shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Go away now, I’ve got things to study and stress over.”  
  
Scott sighed and left the room.  
  
His brother was completely clueless. Dumbest guy ever.  
  
  
-  
  
  
‘BUS STRIKE FUCK DAMN DEREK!’  
  
Derek woke up with that text from Stiles and it took four seconds for him to offer a ride to the amber-eyed boy. It was early, and he was still too sleepy to remember those sad thoughts of the day before. Maybe they were sleepy too.  
  
He got ready for school in record time and left, driving to Stiles’ house without thinking too much.  
  
But that was day number thirteen, and he knew that. His heart was aching, and he almost wanted to stab himself when he saw Stiles sitting on the front steps of his yellow house, looking fragile and cold. He felt the need to run to him, lift him and hug him to warm him up. Then he would’ve kissed him hard and—ok, enough.  
  
Stiles noticed him and stood up, jumping down the steps and getting in the car with a special smile of his own. “Hi!”  
  
“’morning,” Derek answered, and then he immediatly started driving .  
  
Stiles furrowed his brows. Derek used to greet him with a kiss and a smile, but that morning something was off. “Is there something wrong?”  
  
Derek gulped and shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry. I’m just tired.”  
  
“Oh, you've had fun last night?” Stiles asked, giggling nervously. He pressed his lips in a thin line, wishing for a ‘no’ from Derek. It’d mean that Derek wasn’t fooling around because maybe he liked him.  
  
“Yep,” Derek replied, shaking his head. That was it. He was right. Stiles didn’t care about him, he didn’t like him that way, or else he wouldn’t have kindly asked him if he was fucking someone else.  
  
Meet Derek Hale: loser of the year.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Stiles felt sad. Derek had just left him in front of his house, and he could say that not even their first kisses had felt that cold. Derek had stopped laughing, telling him stupid jokes, looking at him like he found him cute. Stiles was shattered. There had been entire days in which he thought they could be more, that they could start dating. But no, he was wrong.  
  
He sighed, sitting back on his bed. He had only eighteen kisses left, and they were probably going to feel cold and forced.  
  
He stood up again, opened his closet and grabbed the pile of expensive clothes, then proceeded to throw them in a bag. He’d never wear them ever again. They didn’t do any good to him, Derek still didn’t like him.  
  
His heart was beating fast, but it did that aching and making him feel like he was going to faint.  
  
He just had to give up and get over Derek.  
  
Giving up.  
  
He had to do that all the fucking time.  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
He grabbed his bag quickly, sighing deeply. He frowned in anticipation, a heavy weight on his chest.  
  
Five kisses left.  
  
Five kisses, and everything would be over. And everything meant everything. He walked slowly, leaving the school and looking out for Derek. His head was spinning when he saw him. Last school day before Christmas break, their last day, their last kisses.  
  
Stiles stopped in front of the boy. His eyes were cold, his face as expressive as a stone. Stiles gulped. That wasn’t the way he expected, imagined and hoped for the thing to end. He hadn't really wished for an end, but that was it.  
  
Derek greeted him nodding once.  
  
“Hi,” Stiles said, serious for the first time. Almost over, it’s almost over. I don’t want this to be over.  
  
“So, five left, right?” Derek asked, getting closer to him with nonchalance.  
  
Stiles nodded, looking up to those beautiful grey-blue eyes and feeling his own heat up.  
  
Derek kissed him, Stiles trying to press his lips on Derek’s, but the kiss was rushed, and he didn’t even had the chance to try.  
  
Four left, he thought, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed in pain.  
  
Derek kissed him again.  
  
Three left, another step closer to their end.  
  
Derek never opened his eyes to look at him.  
  
Two left. Stiles’ eyes teared up, and he suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t. He couldn’t.  
  
That was their last kiss. It lasted two seconds more than the others, but turned out colder than their first one.  
  
Stiles bowed his head, tears fighting to wet his cheeks. “So... I got what I paid for.”  
  
Derek nodded quickly, staring hard at him. “Right,” he said, sad and angry. He forced himself not to look at the boy again. “Well, Merry Christmas, Stiles.”  
  
Stiles didn’t look at him either. “You too.”  
  
“Gotta go. Bye Stiles,” Derek said, then grabbed his keys from his pocket and turned around.  
  
Stiles didn’t even had the time to reply.  
  
Derek was sitting in his car, leaving him without a ride home. It was too late to catch the bus, and he now had to walk for one fucking hour to go back home. It was snowing of course, and his tears were cold on his cheeks.  
  
He wiped one with a thumb, then started walking and disappeared when he turned left.  
  
-  
  
  
Scott and Erica shook their heads, looking at each other like they hadn’t expected what had just happened.  
  
“Babe, my brother’s a dickhead.”  
  
Erica nodded, scowling deeply. “I noticed. Take me home. To yours. Right fucking now.”  
  
Scott gulped.  
  
  
-  
  
  
Derek shrieked when he was grabbed by his elbow. He had just got home, angry and sad, and he didn’t feel like being mocked by Scott.  
  
“Scott leave me the fu—Erica?!” he asked, looking at the girl who guided him to the bathroom, looking furious.  
  
“Yes, Erica,” she agreed, crossing her arms. “You’re a fucking dumbass.”  
  
“What the hell?! Why are you insulting me like that?!” he shouted, getting even angrier.  
  
Erica shook her head, scoffing. “I thought you would understand by yourself, but no, you’re not smart enough.”  
  
Derek was on the verge to tell her to go fuck herself and leave him alone, but why the fuck was Erica telling him something like that?! “What are you talking about?!”  
  
“I’m talking about Stiles, you asshole!”  
  
Derek stopped. Stiles. “What about him?” he asked, now interested. And his heart was beating fast again.  
  
“He likes you. He’s had a crush on you for ages, he’s not a posh kid, he’s not rich. He fucking babysits everyday, and he's spent half of his savings to buy those kisses. He thought he could get to know you that way!” she explained, turning red from rage.  
  
Derek gasped, breathing spasmodically. “No, no. His clothes, he had Dior sweaters and McQueen scarves.”  
  
“Those were mine. I lent him some clothes ‘cause he thought he had to wear fancy sweaters and stuff like that to get you like him. Notice him.”  
  
“Nobody knew about the kisses thing. Stiles bought them the very first day,” he objected. That wasn’t happening. No fucking way.  
  
Erica laughed, her smile not reaching her eyes. “I'm dating your brother, I knew about the plan the day you decided to give it a try. Stiles’ my cousin.”  
  
Derek lifted his hands, and they covered his face. “Stiles likes me,” he muttered. He felt himself sweating cold sweat, his stomach aching guiltly.  
  
Erica sighed, then nodded sadly. “He does. And you left him out there, in the freezing cold. How in the hell couldn't you notice the way he looked at you?”  
  
Derek didn’t answer. He just turned away and went out again, leaving Erica in the bathroom.  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
Derek searched for Stiles driving slowly, looking on the sidewalks. He felt so bad for leaving him out there. And how did he miss Stiles’ fond looks? His flushed cheeks? His sadness after their last kiss?  
  
He felt like an idiot, and a tear rolled down his face. Stiles had done so much for him, but he had just ignored it, and decided to trust his fucked up brain. It had always been there. The boy who made his heart beat like crazy had always been in front of him, but he had never noticed.  
  
Then he saw him. Literally.  
Stiles was walking on the sidewalk, his shoulders trembling. Those were hiccups, and Derek felt a second and a third tear wet his cheeks.  
  
He parked hastily and run towards the boy, then hugged his back and Stiles held his breath, maybe after recognizing him from his smell or his arms. He hiccupped louder and leaned back on him, tired.  
  
Derek knew one thing for sure: that was Stiles’ place. And that was where Derek wanted him to be. “Stiles, Erica explained it all to me. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”  
  
“I’m so mortified,” the amber-eyed boy muttered, ashamed. He turned around, and Derek guided his arms around his neck, then let his hands slide down to grab Stiles’ hips.  
  
“Don’t be, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry, I thought you were just some posh kid and that you didn’t mean anything by buying those kisses. Damn.” he confessed. He looked down at him, silently asking for forgiveness. He put a hand on his nape, his fingers drowning in honey brown hair. He kissed him slowly, parting his lips to add just a little bit of tongue.  
  
Stiles was visibly shaking, but Derek did his best to warm him up.  
  
Two hundred and one.  
  
“Do I owe you a dollar now?” Stiles asked, looking at him with that smile. Derek had named it ‘Stiles’ what-the-hell-smile’, because he didn’t really had any other words to describe it.  
  
Derek kissed him again, trying to let him understand that he wanted this. That he wanted him. “I owe you two hundred kisses. But I wouldn’t mind giving you more, if you’re still up for it?” he asked, smiling with hope written all over his face.  
  
Stiles blushed hard, nodding shyly. “Still up for more,” he mumbled incredulously.  
  
He let Derek kiss him again, snow and wind forgotten.  
  
Derek warmed him better then a fireplace, and Stiles felt special wearing his cheap sweater and his old coat.

 


End file.
